


A New Years To Remember

by EmetoOmo



Series: Jamie/Vincent (OCs) [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Desperation, Desperation Play, Emetophilia, M/M, Omorashi, Sexual Content, Vomiting, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15611874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Jamie and Vincent ring in the new years with video games, alcohol, and a few new discoveries about one another.





	A New Years To Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Graphic descriptions of vomiting, alcohol, and sexual acts ahead.

Jamie groaned miserably, shaking his head at the burn of whiskey as it seared down his throat, placing the shot glass on the coffee table. The wooden top was littered with soda cans, beer bottles, and now a few shot glasses. Some empty, some full, just waiting to be drank every minute up to midnight.

Seven down, three to go.

“How…how are you doing there, kid?” Vincent asked amused. He tossed his back like it was a shot of water.

Jamie belched and shuddered. “Four more…I can do four more. I don’t know so much about being any good…” He swallowed. “With Call of Duty, but I’ll get those down…”

Vincent grabbed the other controller, leaning against him some. Thankfully, Jamie’s face was already flush from the alcohol, hiding the blush that rose. “Who cares if we’re good?”

“I…well…I mean…” He stammered before shrugging.

“See, there’s the spirit.” Vince smiled, watching as Jamie squirmed a little. “You doin’ alright?”

“I have to pee…” he whined a little, getting up, only for Vincent to catch his arm and pull him back down with him. Drunken balance landed him right into his lap, his cheeks burning more. “Heeeey!”

“I bet you…twenty bucks I can…hold it longer than you.” Vincent whispered in his ear.

“Pee or liquor?” He asked confused.

“Same thing. I mean, that’s most of what we drank.” he chuckled, only to grimace and burp loudly.

“Fine…first one to…give in and piss…or…” He hesitated. “Or throw up…loses.” He tossed a side glance to Vincent who shrugged.

“Deal dude.”

Releasing Jamie, the gamer sat back some, squirming a little more.

Another minute passed, another shot taken. Two to go.

Jamie got it down a little easier that time, but it didn’t stop that damned whiskey face he made, or the shudder from head to toe it elicited from him. Vincent took his with a smile, though he grew a little quieter as that burn hit his belly. It audibly gurgled, and soon he let loose another belch.

“Are  _you_  going to make it?” Jamie took his turn to ask him.

“Tch…” he brushed it off. “ _Tch….”_

Jamie snorted, and turned their game off. “Fuck the game man…”

“Can’t concentrate? You have to go that bad?” Vincent pried.

His roommate lofted a black brow at that. “You seem oddly fixated on it. Me…having to pee I mean.”

“Well…um…” Vincent pinked. “…Yeah dude, I get 20 bucks if you piss yourself so…” He swallowed, looking away. “How long before the next shot?”

Jamie thought he saw him blush, and almost didn’t hear what he asked, staring at him a long moment before the words filtered in. “Oh..um…shit here,” he reached for the next round and handed him one as they waited. Vincent took deeper breaths, preparing himself for it. Jamie watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed in anticipation.

“Go time.”

The gamer waited, his lips pressed to his shot glass, wanting to see as Vincent struggled to get that shit down. “Goddamn dude…was there…like more in that one?” He asked, before pressing the back of his hand against his lips.

Jamie hurried to do his, wincing again himself. God, he could feel it all sloshing about in there. “Nah…same amount as always.” He lifted his shirt some, looking at the pooch of bloated belly and bladder that swelled and hung over his waistband of his jeans. “Damn…look at that?”

Vincent looked, and soon found himself just  _staring_ , swallowing hard…but not for nausea. “You um…you really have to go huh?”

“Yeah…I don’t think I’ve ever seen it stick out like that…fuck…” Jamie squirmed more and took his off.

Vince slid his hands down to shift himself beneath his gym shorts. “Fuck.” He whispered beneath his breath.

“What?” Jamie asked, looking at him, noticing the growing tent in his shorts, and looking away quickly.  _“Holy shit…is he…is he getting hard over me being desperate?”_  The thought sent warmth through his body, and when he squirmed again, it was for his own growing arousal.

“N-nothing, dude, just um…it’s really warm in here, ya know?” Vincent whispered, looking away.

“Yeah…yeah I do…” He looked at his watch again. “Almost midnight.”

“Last one?”

“Last one…”

Vincent welcomed the distraction as he leaned forward some, clenching his teeth around his growing nausea, and grabbed the last two shot glasses. Taking one, Jamie squirmed more, curious if Vincent was really into it or if he was really drunk and imagining it. “Fuck dude…I’m…I think I’m going to piss all over this couch…”

There was an audible hard breath through Vincent’s nose, his brows pursing some as he tried to restrain it. “D-don’t think you can…make it?” He asked, belching halfway through it.

“I don’t know…” Jamie whispered. “Can you…um…make it through one more shot?”

“S-sure dude. I’m f-fine. Never better.” He smiled some for him, but a pallor had set in over him, sweat starting to bead a little on his forehead.

Outside, someone shot a gun into the air, ringing in the new year. Jamie started to put his to his lips, but Vincent stopped him, and entwined their arms. “New years…gotta do the last one in style.”

Now Jamie was  _sure_  Vincent could see him blushing. They looked at one another a moment, before they downed that last shot. It was barely down his throat before Vincent gagged and covered his mouth. “Need help to the bathroom?” Jamie asked, though he felt more heat rush through him, a twinge of excitement.

Vincent shook his head slowly, covering his mouth again, trying to school his breathing and will the nausea down.

“Look dude…I feel piss poor myself,” Jamie admitted. “I’m…probably going to go bring it back up…soon as you lose this bet.”

“W-why…bring it up?” Vincent asked, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth.

“I don’t like feeling like this and…um…” His heart pounded a moment. Did he dare? “It…um…feels better to get it all out.”

Vincent had wondered, and while there wasn’t anything strange about what Jamie said…he thought he’d felt him grow hard when he had helped him throw up before. Maybe it was the alcohol…maybe it was the nausea…but he felt more confident than ever. “Dude…I’ll…I’ll just give you the 20 if you go…make yourself throw up. But um…boxers only and you can’t…go to the bathroom before you go.”

 _“Is this really happening right now?”_  Jamie asked himself. Did he dare? His palms were sweating, and the mix of excitement and nerves were setting his already upset stomach on edge. “Fuck it…whatever. It’s 20 bucks…” He stood shakily, and pulled his jeans off, leaving himself in a pair of purple boxer briefs tight and obviously tented. “But…you too. No shit. No shorts…”

Vincent shrugged some, welcoming the distraction from his belly, and slowly peeled his way out to leave him in dark blue briefs. He was still gritting his teeth, fighting against throwing up. “After you…”

Jamie moved to head into the bathroom, taking his glasses off and putting them on the counter, before grabbing the trash can and setting it over where Vincent could grab it. Vincent knelt down on the cool tile and held it thankfully. He wasn’t so sure how long he was going to hold out. “Go ahead dude…”

Jamie squirmed again. On his knees like this, the pressure on his bladder was unbearable. It…excited him, if he was at all honest with himself, and too drunk to fully care who saw it. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he took a deep breath, and pressed them back in his throat. It didn’t take but a moment to get himself to gag, and he held them there til he gagged hard again, and spat thick saliva into the toilet.

He throbbed visibly beneath his boxer briefs, and Vincent sat transfixed, his own arousal slowly overtaking his nausea. “Keep…keep going dude…”

Jamie didn’t need to be told, already starting to thrust his fingers as if he were working his throat like he would a lover, getting them deep and upsetting the back of his throat. He gagged audibly around his fingers, and held them wigging as he forced a belch up, a small wet spot forming on his boxers as the nausea increased. “Fuck…” He held his mouth open some as he removed his fingers, just letting the saliva and drool slip into the toilet. “Can you…press my stomach in when…I gag next time?”

Vincent shook the heat from his head. “Um…sure…yeah,” he whispered, moving behind him to wrap his arms around his stomach. “Like that?”

“Tighter.” Jamie instructed, and brought his fingers in for another time. He pressed the back of his tongue in his throat, and pressed up into his fingers, using his own abdominal muscles as the retch went through him to force that ball up. Vincent’s arms pressing in helped, and that next hard gag brought up a large wave of alcohol. At the same time, dampness slid down his leg and onto the tile floor.

“Are….are you pissing?” Vincent asked breathlessly, unable to hide how hard he was against Jamie’s backside. The smaller man couldn’t answer as his body took over, vomit exploding from him, and forcing more piss hissing from him as he throbbed with pleasure.

Every retch pulled more from him until he’d fully lost all control over his bladder.

His knees nearly gave out as he felt Vincent’s hand timidly press against his bulge, feeling the urine slipping through the cotton fabric with a groan. He vomited again, even as he reached down between then and slid his boxers down enough for his friend to get the hint. Vincent gripped him in hand as he pissed and vomited, grinding against his backside some as he began to stroke him.

Jamie took a shuddered breath, another belch coming as he pressed back into him. “Do-don’t stop…” His shaking hand come up to begin gagging himself on, wanting to keep it going. He no longer cared about the mess, about whether it was truly happening or some alcohol-induced dream…it felt like fucking  _heaven_  and he didn’t want it to ever stop.

He was mostly just heaving dryly on his fingers when he gave a hard throb and climaxed, hot and sticky, into the puddle he’d made on the floor. Sweaty and shaking, he fell a to the side, smiling. “Fuck… _fuck…_.”

Vincent smiled, all shyness gone as he leaned and kissed him fully on the mouth, tasting the remnants of vomit there. “Alright…I’ve fought this long enough…” He whispered against his lips, before he moved to angle himself over the toilet. “Here’s…a show for you.”

~Fin~


End file.
